Cold Feet
by Rose Malmaison
Summary: There's a wedding about to take place in the snowy woods on Valentine's Day, and someone has cold feet. Very cold feet. Tibbs slash story. PG for language. No spoilers. Also short companion piece, 'Advice', rated G. COMPLETE


**Cold Feet by rose malmaison **  
>Pairing: GibbsDiNozzo, existing relationship.  
>Warnings: MM. Mild cursing, language.  
>Rating: PG<br>Word Count: 4700  
>Written for Valentine Tibbs 2012<p>

1. Cold Feet

Tony stands there, mutely staring at the midnight-black tuxedo hanging on the rustic cabin's closet door. He recognizes it as his own tux, the Zegna he purchased with last year's overtime pay.

"I brought your silk boxers and tie, and shoes and everything," Abby is saying enthusiastically. "There's snow on the path, so you might be better off wearing boots. Knowing you, you won't sully the whole designer-tuxedo vibe you'll have going on with boots but I brought your best ones anyway. Sully…I like that word, sully, sully, sully, almost as much as besmirch or befoul." Abby shakes her head and gets back on track without any direction from anyone, which Tony thinks must be a first. Her voice raises half an octave when she asks hesitantly, "Are you, like, _mad_ at me, Tony?"

"What?" He's fingering the material of his tux, admiring its clever tailoring and clean lines, and wondering if Abby was his groomsman, or whatever the female version of that might be. "No, I'm not angry. I'm…" Tony sighs and admits, "I just don't want to get married, Abby." He realizes, with a sinking heart, that he's never actually been honest enough to say those words aloud. Now all he has to do is tell Gibbs, Tony thinks, and breaks out in a cold sweat.

"You don't want to…? Not even to Gibbs…? Oh." Her eyes widen. "Oh, Tony, I thought all those comments about marriage were…"

The look on Abby's face is priceless, the sun dawning over troubled waters and finding more trouble than she expects. Under different circumstances Tony might laugh and poke gentle fun at his dearest friend, but now he doesn't.

Abby says urgently, "You have to tell Gibbs." The look she sends Tony says clearly that she both pities and fears for him.

"Yeah," he replies. He feels like a heel because he knows this is his own stupid fault. He has been joking around about the marriage thing for years now, ridiculing the whole idea, shuddering dramatically and telling amusing stories about his father's several disastrous marriages as if they're cocktail-party fare designed for public consumption. It's wrong when the stories are, in reality, quite sad once you get past the farcical elements.

No, he has never made it clear that he is serious when he says he's not interested in a legal union between himself and Jethro. _'Like David Letterman says, who gets the bachelor party? Who forgets the anniversary?'_

There have been vague noises coming from Jethro, and from all of their friends, about them getting married, for months now. There have been occasional mentions of where and when, but never anything solid, and Tony has always shrugged it off. He never thought it would get this far. Apparently someone has been making plans – serious plans – and now it is a done deal and there is no backing out.

How had Jethro's casual question a few weeks ago, 'How does exchanging vows outdoors strike you, Tony?' metamorphosed into Abby telling him, 'I put your wedding clothes in the honeymoon cabin, Tony, and Gibbs will be waiting for you at the altar.'?

God, he did not want to hurt Jethro. Now everyone was expecting him to smile and tell them that 'Of course this is what I wanted all along and I just had a slight case of cold feet. I'm fine now. I've come to my senses. On with the show.' But he doesn't say that aloud. He can't. He can't. Instead, Tony says, "No."

"But Tony, Gibbs wants…" she starts.

"This isn't about what Gibbs wants," Tony says, a little too sharply. He takes a deep, cleansing breath and tries again. "I know he wants to get married, to have a traditional ceremony. I've got that. Honest, I've got it. But I never had any intention of getting married." He waves his arms around, and demands, "I don't understand; doesn't anyone know me? Who...who thought this was a bright idea, anyway?" Now he sounds pissy but it has reached a point when he doesn't really care.

He's feeling unduly pressured and he can feel the need to run coming on – and it's _strong_, strong enough that Tony's eyeing the door and wondering if he can make it to the car before anyone tackles him. He has a sudden vision of Julia Roberts on her way to the altar, suddenly frozen in place with a deer-in-the-headlights expression marring her beautiful features. Her wedding guests are murmuring under their collective breaths, 'She's gonna run,' as they hand off bets on whether or not she is going to make a mad dash for the chapel door.

Abby's hands are clasped together and Tony thinks she looks like she's praying, which she might very well be doing, given the circumstances. "Tony, Tony. Gibbs _needs_ this. He _needs_ to be married. It's a sign of his commitment to you. It's a perfect way for you two to convey to the world how much you love each other, that you're committed to each other, that you're like one – a couple, a unit, a team, a duet, a pod."

Tony narrows his eyes at her choice of words. "You mean we're like pod people? Body-snatching ETs?"

Abby shifts gears. "Okay, forget the pod. Forget the whole thing. Not the wedding though! We can't forget the wedding."

"There isn't going to be any wedding, Abby!" Tony starts to pace the length of the bedroom and soon finds that the room is too small to get up a good head of steam when he comes face-to-face with his tux every time he turns around. "It's a mere legality, one that has nothing to do with being truly committed to another person. We are tied by our friendship, bound by our love for each other." He hates that he sounds like a Hallmark card but he's on a roll and he can't stop. "Making it legal, or not, won't have an effect on our relationship, or to our commitment to each other. We're already cohabiting, settled down just like an old married couple. Jethro goes to his workshop to play with his wood, while I'm in the bedroom sorting the laundry, dividing boxers from the briefs. Okay, that didn't come out sounding like I expected…"

Tony shakes his head and starts again. "We're good friends, lovers, buddies with benefits, and that's the way it should be. I know," he says, taking Abby's hands in his and raising them to his chest. "I know in my heart that I will never love, or want, anyone else as much as I do Jethro. I will never feel so much love for another person, for as long as I live, as I do him, and I'm pretty damned sure that he feels the same way. And I wasn't going to bring up his track record with marriage, but you'd think that the guy would take three failed marriages as a hint that a few words in front of a preacher, and a piece of paper with an embossed seal on the corner, just doesn't amount to a hill of beans." Tony takes a moment to catch his breath and says, "So the answer is still no."

"It's a promise, a vow you make for yourself and for your family and friends," Abby says in a heartfelt plea when Tony releases her hands and moves away. "You two are going to be together forever, so why _not_ exchange rings and vows? It'll be icing on the cake. Doesn't Gibbs deserve this chance to finally enjoy a wonderful marriage? Why won't you do this for him?"

"That is _so_ not fair, Abby. You know I'd do _anything_ for Jethro. _Anything_." Tony stops pacing and realizes the truth of what he's just said. He would. He would do anything for Jethro. He'd lay his damned life on the line for him, just as Jethro would do for him, so why won't he give in and agree to stand before a magistrate, and agree that he does, indeed, love and cherish the man? What gives him the right to be so stubborn when this covenant is really important to Gibbs?

Tony stares at his tuxedo, which is beginning to look a bit dejected hanging there, all dressed up with nowhere to go, and then he turns to face Abby. "Was this your idea, Abs? Coming up here to this place, out in the middle of Nowheresville?" He waves vaguely at the room, which is decked out in rustic-cabin chic with a side of nature-lover décor. Someone has placed a sprig of pine on the blue plaid comforter, and the scent reminds him of Jethro. Tony smiles to himself at the memory of making love under Jethro's boat last night, and how, after they'd recovered, Jethro had to pull a splinter out of Tony's ass, and how hot and wet Jethro's mouth was when he kissed it all better.

Abby hums and haws and pulls a face, and then she admits, "I started the ball rolling but Gibbs didn't need an awful lot of convincing that it was a good plan. He sort of got caught up in it and it was his idea to come all the way out here, and to rent these cabins for you and the wedding party."

Tony noticed when they arrived that there were several similar cabins nestled in the surrounding woods. At least the wedding guests will have somewhere nice to stay the night, and they won't have to make the long drive back to civilization on snowy roads. Of course he will foot the bill; it's the least he can do.

"Gibbs thought it would be a romantic location for the wedding," Abby says, all doe-eyed with sentimentality. "He chose the date specially, and he said that although you were dragging your heels he knew that once you two were standing there, speaking your vows, that you would understand. You'd feel the same. I know he wants so badly to please you and–"

Tony cuts in abruptly. "I'll wear the shoes."

Abby blinks a few times. "What?"

There's silence for a moment before Tony says casually, "I've decided I will wear the shoes, after all. If I'm wearing a tuxedo to an outdoor, middle-of-the-winter wedding then I'll be damned if I'm going to wear boots and ruin the whole effect–" Abby squishes the breath right out of him with a big hug, and Tony makes sounds of protest even though he really doesn't mind being hugged by Abby, for any reason, at any time.

2. Deep Woods

It's freezing out in the pinewoods, so damned cold that Tony turns up the collar of his tuxedo jacket. He feels vaguely guiltily doing so, aware that if his tailor saw him ruining the line of his classic Zegna tux, the man would probably have a fit and smack him on the back of the head with the latest issue of GQ. Tony idly wonders if the man knows Gibbs.

Of course that isn't what's really bothering Tony as he stands knee-deep in snow – which is literally twelve-inches deep off the path – late in the day in the middle February, in a forest that's all the way out in…in…Okay, Tony hasn't got a clue where he is right now. All he knows is that he is so far from anywhere identifiable that there are no paved road for twenty miles, no cell reception, and no pizza delivery even if he _could_ locate a working phone to order a pizza – which he _can't_.

Tony glances at the man standing patiently by his side. God, the look, the smell of the man, and even Jethro's parade-ground stance, takes Tony's breath away.

Jethro is wearing his tux, the one that Tony coerced him into buying a couple of years ago. At the time, Jethro had griped about the expense, but after he'd found occasion to wear the tuxedo a couple of times he'd allowed that the formal wear _could_ be considered an investment. The only problem is that Jethro has put a heavy buffalo plaid jacket on over his tux and has a wool scarf wrapped around his neck, totally obscuring the tuxedo and its fine white dress shirt and black bow tie.

Upon reflection, Tony decides that if Jethro can wear a red and black hunting jacket over his tux, and still look strangely appropriate and at ease, not to mention ruggedly handsome, then a turned-up collar on Tony's tuxedo isn't going to alert the fashion police. Not that the fashion police would be caught dead out here, in any case. Wherever _out here_ is, is a mystery, because it sure as hell didn't show up on Tony's GPS back when he could actually _get_ a signal. No doubt about it, this is the boonies with a capital B.

"You finished, DiNozzo?"

Tony blinks and finds he's being observed by a pair of amused blue eyes. "Uh, finished?"

"Finished muttering under your breath."

"I was _not_ muttering," says Tony, affronted. "DiNozzos do not–"

Jethro rolls his eyes and retorts, "Boonies with a capital B?" He inhales deeply and exhales a cloud of white vapor. "Good, fresh country air. Enjoy it while you can, before we go back to the city."

"Uh, in case you hadn't noticed, it's freezing out here, and I don't have my long underwear on." Just to prove his point, Tony's teeth decide to chatter at that very moment.

Jethro looks him up and down speculatively. "Maybe the chilly air will put some hair on your chest."

"I have enough hairs on my chest, thanks just the same," Tony replies, a little hurt. Suddenly he wonders if Jethro's comment was meant as criticism. "Wait a minute, you don't think I have enough hair on my chest? I thought you liked me the way I am, you know, with a furry trail leading down to…I thought…I mean…Oh God…" He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to quell the rising panic that comes out of nowhere and threatens to consume him.

When he opens his eyes Tony looks around and takes in the whole scene: family, friends, gathered for the ceremony; dark woods under a leaden-gray sky that appears to be getting grayer by the minute; an official-looking stranger with a kind face standing to one side looking at him expectantly; more woods, even darker now because the daylight is fading; a cabin tucked behind the trees, with the only visible lights for as far as he can see; Jethro staring at him as if Tony's going nuts, which he thinks he is, for real; Jesus, even more trees.

Everything…_everything_ he sees scares him, reminds him of why he's here, why they're all here, and he doesn't want…can't _face_…oh God, he can't damned well _breathe_!

Jethro grips Tony firmly by the upper arms, forcing him to turn and meet his eyes, to focus. "Hey, hey! I like you just fine the way you are. I _love_ you, Tony. What is going on?"

"What?" he asks in a faint voice. For a second Tony wonders what the hell Gibbs is doing here, and then he remembers: God! Wedding, marriage, quarrels, divorce! He squirms a little to get out of Jethro's grip and away from his sharp-eyed gaze, and when that doesn't work Tony averts his eyes, looking in the direction of the small crowd of people observing them from a dozen feet away. They're being polite, pretending they're not listening in on the conversation. Jethro's gaze is boring a big hole him so Tony somehow manages to get a grip. He shrugs and says in a small voice, "Nothing."

Instead of letting go, Jethro makes a surprise move and pulls Tony into a hug. He's all warmth and aftershave and that ever-present scent of sawdust. When Jethro speaks his breath is hot on Tony's cheek, making Tony's knees go weak. "You got the jitters, Tony? Cold feet? You feeling okay?"

'Feeling okay?' was Gibbs-speak for, 'Are your lungs feeling good or are you coming down with bronchitis again and do I need to get you airlifted back to civilization before you end up with pneumonia?'

After licking his lips, Tony says uncertainly, "No. Maybe. Sort of…" He pulls back a little and manages to meet Jethro's concerned gaze when he replies nervously, "I mean, yes, I'm fine. I'm cold but I'm fine, but this is all sort of sudden and I wasn't really what you'd call _prepared_ or anything."

Jethro raises his eyebrows a little. "Sudden? We've known each other for eleven years, been lovers for six of those, and lived together for the past five years. I asked you to marry me a year ago, Tony, and after we wrestled a little you agreed, said yes. Quite enthusiastically as I recall." Jethro is grinning at the memory and has that self-satisfied expression that Tony finds both irking and sexy at the same time. It makes him want to take this to a bedroom, or anywhere warm so they can discuss it in private, and soon. "I didn't think you meant _literally_ get married."

"What the hell did you think I meant?"

"That we _could_ marry, in theory. That it was plausible, not that I would stand here in front of a preacher…" Tony glances at the man who is supposed to marry them but the gray-haired man is bundled up in a long dark overcoat and Tony can't make out if he's a minister or a JP. He turns back to Jethro and hisses, "I didn't say yes to a ring and a date." God, that sounds so girly, so _Dr. Laura_.

Jethro is looking concerned and a little bit put out, and Tony can't blame him.

"Just never got around to setting that date. So now we have a date, and that date is _now_," says Jethro, loudly, as if 'that's all there is to it, so let's move on.'

"You said we were going away for the weekend, for Valentine's Day. I didn't expect…this." It was all a big surprise, and Tony, who rarely has the wool pulled over his eyes, never caught on to Abby and Jethro, and even McGee and Ducky, apparently, arranging everything behind his back. Maybe that was a good part of what was bothering him, and not just that everyone else in the world seemed to have the notion that getting married is some kind of cosmic solution, like the way asteroid impacts may have sent asexual organisms down the path towards discovering sex. Oh _God_, he's been watching too much of the Science Channel.

"What did you _expect_ when I stopped on the way up here to pick up the license, Tony?" It's plain to see Jethro's patience is wearing thin but he's giving Tony a chance.

"I thought it was a…" Tony casts an embarrassed look in the direction of their friends, who have at least stopped trying to appear as if they're not hanging on every word, then whispers, "… a _fishing_ license."

There's a sound of someone stifling a laugh behind a mitten-covered hand, and Tony feels his face heating up.

After a beat, Jethro says with disbelief, "It's the middle of winter, DiNozzo."

"Uh yeah. There's ice fishing, isn't there?"

Jethro studies him skeptically, probably wondering if all of those concussions have finally taken their toll. "Let me get this straight. You thought we were going _ice fishing_? On Valentine's Day?"

"Well, last time we got together with your dad," Tony says defensively, "Jackson was telling that story about how he and his buddies used to go ice fishing back in the olden days when the winters were really cold. And he said that's how he ended up getting engaged to your mother. He and Ann were stranded in an ice-fishing shack on a breakaway ice floe, and the next morning when her father braved the cold and rescued them, he found them asleep in each other's arms..." He takes a breath and continues, "It's sort of romantic in a shotgun-wedding sort of way and I thought, you know…you, me, small enclosed space…uh, be my Valentine?" Tony edges a little away from Jethro, who is lifting one hand, sure that any minute he's going to get a slap to the back of his head.

Instead, Jethro runs his fingers through his hair, looking nonplussed. Tony notices he isn't wearing gloves and he thinks, 'typical Gibbs.' Then Jethro seems to reach a decision because he takes hold of Tony's hands and squeezes them affectionately, and Tony can feel the heat seeping right through the leather gloves he decided to wear at the last moment.

"Tony, look, if this is too much for you, then we can tell the Justice and the guests to pack it up and go home. I'm fine with that. Damn it, I'll do whatever you want." Jethro doesn't say, 'I won't hold it against you although Abby might,' but Tony hears those unspoken words. Jethro nods and says decisively, "We won't get married. I'm done with it. Let's go inside and warm up by the fire."

Tony can tell that Jethro is being sincere, and that he will stop the proceedings – if that's what Tony desires. So Tony thinks about it for a minute, and then for another couple of minutes because this is a really important juncture in their lives and, despite appearances, Tony doesn't want to mess it up. Tony shrugs a little and asks, sort of plaintively, "You mean you don't _want_ to marry me any more?"

It's both funny and scary at the same time, watching Jethro trying really hard not to roll his eyes – again – or yell, or punch him in the arm, because he looks a bit like he's going to explode at any given moment. Tony can't blame Jethro, really, because he knows he's being difficult, but there are so many warring feelings going on inside his head and his heart and he doesn't know which way to turn.

But Jethro keeps a lid on his temper, swallows hard and says, very slowly and evenly, "I want to marry you, Tony, but I don't _need_ us to be married. Every time we make love, it's a confirmation of our partnership. Every time I'm in a foul mood, or hurting, or being a bastard, you hug me and all that crap fades away." His voice gets all rough when he raises a hand to cup Tony's cheek and says, "You always make me feel so damned loved. Of course I want to marry you, but I also want to do what's best for _us_, not just for me."

Tony's eyes are tearing up when he throws his arms around Jethro's neck and kisses the warm skin under his ear, and immediately he feels how much that turns Jethro on, despite the cold. Tony declares, "God, I love you so much, Jethro. Yes, yes! I want to get married. To you. Marry me, _please_."

By the time Jethro has finished kissing Tony, Tony feels really warm and tingly, all the way down to his toes, even though his shoes are wet and ruined. It doesn't seem half so cold any more, and he almost forgets about the Justice of the Peace, who is making noises to indicate he wants to get on with the ceremony because it's damned cold in the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere, under a darkening wintry sky.

3. Vows

"Wait," Jethro orders. "Gonna snow," he says as he drags off his heavy winter coat and forces Tony to put it on over his tuxedo. Jethro rubs his hands up and down Tony's arms for good measure and he looks so damned happy that Tony grins widely in response.

Tony pulls the black-and-red plaid coat, which bears the warmth and scent of his lover, closely around his chest and hopes that his body's response to it isn't too obvious. He can't help asking, "Snow? When?" Not that it matters because as soon as the JP gets the words said, they're all going to be inside where it's nice and toasty, celebrating. They'll open the case of ridiculously expensive champagne that his dad lugged with him all the way from France, and the guests will raise their glasses to the newly wedded couple, and hopefully they won't stay too long because Tony is looking forward to his wedding night.

Jethro squints up at the leaden sky and squints. "I'd say it's gonna start snowing right about now."

And damned if, two seconds later, a single snowflake doesn't fall, lazy and sweet, landing on Jethro's ruddy cheek. And then another snowflake appears, and another, until there's a dusting of white on the shoulders of Jethro's tuxedo. A few more settle on his face and it's all Tony can do not to lean over and lick off all those cold white crystals. Instead he smiles and says, "Perfect." Jethro's smile, so full of love and utter joy, brings a feeling of warmth to Tony's entire being, spreading outwards from his heart to envelop him in its embrace.

They can't take their eyes off each other and if it wasn't for the whispered comments around them, and the squeals of delight – those are coming from Abby – Tony and Jethro would be alone in a world of their making. Tony doesn't have to look around to know that their family is gathering around; both of their fathers, and Ducky, Tim and Abby, Ziva, and Palmer, who brought Breena, of course. He can feel their presence, a cozy cloak of goodwill and joy for the occasion, settling about them and drawing them close.

"You ready?" Jethro asks in a low voice.

Tony sees love in his partner's eyes, deep and unwavering and true, and he's overwhelmed by its intensity. He's been nervous up until now, which he's been trying and – obviously – failing to hide, but when Tony looks into Jethro's blue eyes something changes inside of him, a feeling of belonging that sort of moves in and makes itself at home. "Yeah. I'm ready. More than ready," he replies with a smile.

There's a discreet cough and the two men manage to drag their eyes away from each other in order to pay attention to the Justice of the Peace. Jethro must have given some kind of signal because the man starts to address them, speaking of vows and unions, and all sorts of important stuff that Tony doesn't listen to because the most important thing of all – the _only_ important thing – is the love in Jethro's eyes.

Tony is happy that someone got rid of that part about 'til death' because even if he and Jethro don't know how long _forever_ may be in their line of work, Tony doesn't want the word 'death' to be part of their wedding vows.

Then it's over and they're hitched, as Jackson calls it, and a female voice mutters, "Finally." Tony and Jethro are kissing each other with warm lips and even warmer tongues in the midst of a flurry of snowflakes. They smile at the good wishes from their friends and family and when Tony says, once again, in an almost reverent hushed tone "Perfect," Jethro's eyes light up in response.

"Damned right it is," Jethro says, and pulls Tony close for another kiss while everyone hoots and applauds, their claps muffled by their gloves. Then the kiss ends and they all make their way back to the cabin in the woods, where there's champagne and hot mulled cider, plenty of food and a fire roaring away in the old stone fireplace, and enough damned love to make even the coldest of hearts warm.

*** end ***  
>...and there's a companion story below...<p>

**Advice by rose_malmaison**

Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo, existing relationship.  
>Characters: Tony, Jethro, Anthony DiNozzo Sr., Jackson Gibbs.<br>Warnings: M/M.  
>Rating: G<br>Word Count: 500  
>Written for Valentine Tibbs 2012<br>Follow-up to Cold Feet  
>Summary: A very short discussion about what makes for a good marriage.<p>

Advice

"It's only a piece of paper," says Tony's father. Tony raises an eyebrow at that comment and Senior looks abashed. "Hey, I tried, several times, but after your mother, well, I guess my heart wasn't in it as much as I thought it was."

Jackson Gibbs makes a sort of harrumphing sound that warrants a glare from Senior. Jackson ignores the dark look and says, "Let me tell you, in my day we took our vows seriously. I was married for twenty-five years and the missus and I were only parted by war and death." Memories hit him and he runs a hand over his mouth, half turning away. He takes a few seconds to collect himself.

Jethro pats his father's shoulder a little awkwardly, though it's obvious from the way Jackson leans into his son's touch that it means a lot to him.

Senior clears his throat and shifts his weight and Tony knows that his dad isn't immune to the way those feelings have a way of coming up and snowing over you when you think about those you've lost, no matter how many years it's been since they've gone. Tony touches his old man's sleeve and offers him a smile that, he hopes, shows he understands. He misses his mother in a bittersweet way but her passing seems so long ago. Tony can't imagine what kind of state he'll be in if Jethro dies before he does – not that he wants to think about that kind of thing, not on his wedding day.

"They say," Tony says trying to lighten the mood, "that the key to a good marriage is separate bathrooms."

Jethro frowns at him. "Thought the key to a good marriage was putting the toilet seat down."

Tony bumps his shoulder against Jethro's and teases, "You must have left that toilet seat up an awful lot, Boss." Of course Jethro growls at the insult, or it could be because of Tony calling him Boss.

Both of their dads look at Tony and Jethro at the same time and Senior says speculatively, "I'm not sure that applies in this situation. Wouldn't you keep it up?" He shakes his head, befuddled, then gives up.

Jackson asks Senior, "How about you and me opening some more of that champagne and comparing notes on women, DiNozzo?"

"Sure Jack. I can call you Jack, can't I? I say that money's the key to a good marriage. Do you know that the first words Tony's mother ever said to me she borrowed from Groucho Marx: 'Will you marry me? Do you have any money? And answer the second question first.'"

Tony and Jethro shake their heads as they watch their fathers heading over to the buffet table. It's Tony who voices what they're both thinking, "Oh God, I hope Dad doesn't have any of my baby pictures in his wallet."

Jethro stares at Tony for a second and his eyes widen with fear. He hurries after his father, calling, "Hey, Dad?"

*** end ***


End file.
